


Glory of Flight

by kristsune



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Mike and Simon are at least passing acquaintances due to both serving the same god, Wingfic, literally just an excuse to describe wings for the avatars, mike's POV, mike's take on wings, yet again i just love describing the Vast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 15:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Mike Crew muses on the other Avatar's wings.





	Glory of Flight

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just an excuse for me to write wingfic, because I'm me lol. Initially inspired by [this lovely art](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/post/188031038269) which also inspired Mike's own wings.  
I want to give a shout out to the fic [Flowery Tombs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18255080) because that fic absolutely inspired Hezekiah's wings, and its honestly just an incredible fic.

Mike Crew loved his wings. They were the physical manifestation of his patron, of the Entity that granted him his power. He thought it was … _ unfair _ that _ all _ Avatars had wings, even if they were only visible to others like them. None of them _ truly _ appreciated what those wings gave to them. Allowing them to access the boundless skies that they didn’t have the proper _ respect _ for. Mike wasn’t sure if _ that _ bothered him more, or if those that never used their wings to touch the skies at all did. To have that ability right at their fingertips, and just let it go to waste.

Mike didn’t particularly enjoy interacting with most of the other Avatars, he honestly wasn’t terribly interested in anything that didn’t feed the Vast. Luckily there wasn’t much call for it, but it still happened on occasion. And it did give him an opportunity to observe the many different variations of wings there were. 

Simon (and some of the other Fairchilds) were probably the only other ones that appreciated their wings, and what they represented. But even so, Simon was difficult to read, and nihilistic enough to not particularly care about _ anything _ to any great degree. So it really was a toss up. His wings were pretty in their own way though, a pure white, that looked like overlapping cirrocumulus clouds, thin and wispy that only formed at high altitudes. Simon always did enjoy feeling like he was above everyone, and everything else.

Peter Lukas’ wings were made of a dense, opaque fog that he could easily wrap around himself and disappear into the Lonely. Very handy that, considering he liked social interactions even less than Mike did. Sometimes Mike thought he could hear the ocean when he happened to get close, and wondered if that was something all the Lukases could do, or if it was a purely Peter thing. 

Annabelle Cane was not someone one saw unless she wanted you to see her, so Mike was surprised the one time he caught a glimpse of her heading into a coffee shop in south London. Her wings were a delicate looking framework filled with dozens if not hundreds of layered spider’s webs. They almost looked like they could be torn apart with a strong breeze, but Mike knew just how strong the Mother’s silk was, and that Annabelle’s wings were probably some of the strongest there were.

Jude Perry and Agnes Montague were both of the Lightless Flame, but their wings varied drastically. Jude’s were thick and black, with cracks spider webbing throughout, and a deep, hot, red burned underneath, not unlike cooling lava. Agnes’ on the other hand were white hot flame. Continuously moving and crackling. People always gave a wide berth around her, even if they did so unconsciously, and Mike could understand why. Even walking within three meters of her, he could _ feel _ the heat radiating from her. 

Mike could never fully describe what Nikola Orsinov’s wings actually looked like, except _ really fucking creepy _. They were made from a multitude of different skins, and unidentifiable fur and hair, sewn haphazardly together, and were uncanny in a way that was indescribable. Mike avoided her and all her mannequins and wax figures at all costs. 

Jared Hopworth was another Mike tried to avoid as much as possible. He absolutely dodged a bullet with that bloody Boneturner book. Jared’s wings were too large, with too many angles, too many _ bones _, jutting out in unnatural ways, and Mike was positive there was no way he could ever fly properly with them. 

Jane Prentiss was just as bad, if not worse. Her wings were filled with as many holes as the rest of her. Enough, in fact, that Mike couldn’t even recognize what the base material they were formed from. Mike was sure to keep his distance from her and all her crawling, squirming hoards. 

Michael’s wings gave Mike a headache just looking at them. It was impossible to actually make sense of them; spirals and fractals bending, and twisting around, and through each other. They were always shifting, and changing. Colors blending and separating, creating new colors that didn’t have names, because they didn’t exist on this plane of reality. Sometimes there would be swathes of negative space, that if one wasn’t careful, it felt like you could just fall in; and continue falling for eternity, with only that echoing, distorted laughter for company.

Mike was glad he never had the… _ pleasure _ of meeting an Avatar of Too Close I Cannot Breathe. He instinctively knew his would hackles would raise at anything so definitively opposed to himself, and the Vast, and wouldn’t help but start a fight. But Simon had noticed his interest in wings, and described the ones had seen a hundred or so years previous. A new Avatar named Heck-something, Mike couldn’t remember, some weird religious sounding name. But Simon had described his wings as being made of woven grasses with flowers mixed in, which sounded… _ okay _, if you were into that kind of thing. But apparently the thing that had really stuck out what the smell. A cloying, damp earthy smell that lingered around him. Mike shuttered just thinking of it. Give him the smell of ozone any day. 

There was one Avatar Mike actually got to observe the emergence of his wings, which was interesting in its own right, even if the man was completely insufferable. Jonathan Sim’s wings _ were _ beautiful though. The softest looking grey feathers, that reminded Mike of the color of clouds on a light overcast day. The thing that made Jon’s wings of the Beholding was fitting, if a bit boring. There were dozens of eyes nestled within those feathers. Eyes of all different colors and sizes. And Mike did know for a fact that Jon used those wings for flight. Mike taught Jon a lesson in respect for the Vast himself. He also knew Jon loved to take in the view, to See all he could. He may be a bit of a prat, but Mike could understand that feeling, of soaring and observing the rest of the world.

Elias Bouchard’s wings on the other hand, had a similar feel, if executed differently. When folded along his back, they just looked like mottled browns, blacks and whites, but when he spread them wide, large eye spots were revealed in the center of each wing. They managed to be both intimidating and mesmerizing, which from everything Mike had learned about Elias (which was, admittedly, not a whole lot) was probably exactly the reaction he hoped for.

But, in all honesty, Mike loved his own wings best. He knew he was biased, but he also could not care less. Some have mistaken their color as representative of a clear blue sky, and where he could understand where that misconception came from, they missed the target by a longshot. His bright blue wings matched the electricity that flowed through them, crackling and sparking between feathers. They were at their most impressive in the dark, and in Mike’s personal opinion, during a thunderstorm. He loved the soft blue glow they emitted when he spread his wings wide; thunder and lighting crashing around him, rain and wind in his hair. He could _ feel _ so much more of the storm through his wings, and the utter joy that coursed through him when he did was untouchable by anything else. 

So yes, he had a passing interest in the other Avatar’s wings, but none of them would ever match the glory of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any other character's wings (avatar or not) you would like me to describe, feel free to hmu on [tumblr!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/)


End file.
